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Thad Geer Poem
Feeling a presence larger than life
bowing palms seem to pray to a force beyond,
black sullen clouds drift up the coast,
wind-driven spit of God marks its spot in a rough way.
Grey ocean mauled, shudders like a duck on a cold day
burgeoning waves a rough painting to the tortured sky.
Nature breathes power to uncontrolled chaos
what is not bolted down dances like dervishes for the oncoming storm.
Banshee music howls in concert with ravaging tidal surge
sideways rain stings the cheeks of those who stayed behind.
Darkness engulfs, turmoil pain, and death everywhere
through sonic and physical abuse the end seems near.
An ethereal glow forms between storm pulses
the eye is near.
Sun bursts out reflecting dewdrop rain
witnessing sparkling destruction.
All is quiet for the moment except for falling tiles from bruised roofs,
soon the other side will make its mark
on humbled earth and man.
Copyright © Thad Geer | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Thad Geer Poem
Glowing fields cracked, used up,
relentless sun
without mercy
mirror infinity at earth’s curve.
Melding evasive wind
spins mini cyclones
in harsh triumph.
Stumps of once glorious trees
spread abstract fingers
for a sky holding
the waste of man.
Across a vast beyond
whispering dried grass
whistles alien tunes
at walkers from the void.
Tall and somber
bowed,
by war’s weight.
they search for water
in a land ravished
with faulty dreams.
Still remembering
ultimate loss, those
shrieks of pain.
Bad death
from
faces once loved.
Etched into tenacious memory
a wound so deep with
no point or reason found.
Cruel heat of day dives into
bitter night, obsidian
with glittering lost eyes.
Hands are held
fingers lock
in this abused world,
even to the end.
Copyright © Thad Geer | Year Posted 2021
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Details |
Thad Geer Poem
Sidewalk hot,
you could fry an egg.
Arizona summer heat, Phoenix roast factory.
Sweat pouring off my brow like Noah's flood.
Sky, light turquoise, tweaked into a
sun radiant reflective furnace.
Shimmering down alleyways in unison with overburdened air conditioners.
Mirage pools in the distance ethereal,
wavering on blistering roads.
Sounds are deadened by oppressive scorching.
Dogs panting with white flecks of drool,
sizzling on asphalt.
Blow dryer wind chafing my skin,
hard walking in this dry heat sauna,
cotton ball mouth and a raging thirst.
An old man sitting on a weather-beaten porch spits ocher tobacco waste on a dead lawn.
Penetrating blue eyes nestled in a wrinkled brow,
he whistles a forgotten tune in the oppressive heat.
"Hey, you!" he calls to me,
"get in the shade before you fry your brains."
He's holding a cold lemonade,
dewdrop dribbling on a crystal glass.
Ice jingling against the sides in a mesmerizing way.
I lick my chapped lips,
he pours me a cold one.
We wait on that shaded porch,
talking about life, love, and the way it goes.
As that big red ball starts to creep into the cradle of night.
Copyright © Thad Geer | Year Posted 2021
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